Breaking All The Rules
by malfoysminx
Summary: As a rule, Harry Potter will sleep with anyone once, but only once. Draco Malfoy on the other hand, rules out anyone who's visited Potter's bed. Sooner or later they're going to run out of options, but then aren't rules just made to be broken? dm/hp drarry SLASH
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with JK's toys.

Warnings: Contains SLASH. Rated M for a reason.

 **Breaking All The Rules**

 **Chapter 1**

"Anyone we know?" Granger greeted Draco as she walked into their shared office at the Ministry on Monday morning.

"Zacharias Smith." Draco replied glancing up at his co-worker in time to see her brow wrinkle in disgust.

"Really? I thought Harry had more taste than that." She hung up her coat before settling at her desk and beginning to sift through her post.

"What on earth made you think that?" Draco retorted, flipping through the rest of the paper.

Granger sighed. "I honestly don't know."

Following their regular Monday morning discussion about Harry Potter's sex life, the day continued to progress as usual with both of them settling down to work in relative silence until eleven when the muggle-born witch made a trip to the file store. As soon as she was gone, Draco retrieved his copy of the Prophet from his drawer, cutting off the front page with a carefully aimed severing charm. He gave the picture one more cursory glance, noting the way Smith seemed to be more interested in playing up to the supposedly hidden camera than in actually snogging the Gryffindor hero in his arms, before adding it to the bulging file he kept secreted away in his desk. He was pretty sure that Granger knew about the file, but she had never mentioned it and Draco had no intention of confirming its existence by getting it out when she was around.

By the time Granger returned to the office, Draco was back at work as though nothing had happened, barely even glancing up to acknowledge her reappearance. Unfortunately, she had brought Simon with her, one of the office assistants, who was helping her carry her thick stack of files. Simon was pleasant enough and always happy to help, but he had an unfortunate crush on Draco and seemed unwilling or unable to read the signs that clearly told him to bugger off.

"Morning, Draco, good weekend?"

"Lovely thanks." He didn't look up from the parchment he was perusing.

"Do anything nice?"

"This and that."

There was a pause in which Draco assumed the boy was communicating silently with Granger and then, "Well, I guess I'll see you later."

Draco made no reply, continuing to focus on the desk in front of him until he heard the door shut behind Simon.

"You could give him a chance, you know. He's completely hung up on you."

"Yes well perhaps he should be more selective over who he goes to bed with if he wants a chance at something better." Draco retorted with a tone that said they'd had this conversation one too many times.

"If you continue to stick to that rule of yours there'll be no one left. How many is it now?"

Draco shrugged. "How would I know?"

"Come on, Draco, I know all about your file."

Draco froze. "How do you know about that?"

"Well I've suspected for a while now, but I saw you with it last week."

Draco mentally berated himself for the slip. He'd wondered at the time if Granger had caught him but when she'd said nothing, he assumed that he had got away with it. He was never usually so careless, but the photograph splashed across Monday's Daily Prophet had shocked him more than he'd anticipated. He'd only been out with Daniel a couple of times and though they certainly weren't nearing the point of exclusivity yet, he seemed like a nice enough man and he was a spectacular kisser. Finding out that particular relationship was now over before it had even had a real chance to begin had jolted Draco more than he'd expected. It felt a little like he was losing to Potter all over again and this was hardly the first time one of his dates had ended up splashed across the front page snogging the face off of the Gryffindor hero. Sometimes Draco even found himself wondering if Potter was doing it on purpose.

"One kiss doesn't mean you have to completely write him off, you know."

Draco wasn't sure if Granger was referring to Simon or Daniel, but it made little difference. "Potter doesn't do 'one kiss'."

"Then maybe it's time you broke your own rules."

Draco shook his head vehemently. He only had one rule when it came to relationships. If Potter had been there first, Draco wasn't interested. He would not date Harry Potter's cast offs.

"There really won't be anyone left at this rate. You're picky enough as it is."

"I could always date you." He flirted, just to make her roll her eyes.

"Except that I'm engaged... and a woman."

"Well no one's perfect."

"So Simon...?" She pressed.

"I'm not dating anyone who's fucked Potter." Draco stated bluntly, dropping the teasing tone.

Granger sighed before smirking at him suddenly. The expression seemed unexpectedly at home on her face and Draco felt inexplicably nervous all of a sudden.

"What?" He asked after a minute when the Gryffindor witch remained silent.

"You won't date anyone who's dated Harry..."

Draco snorted at the word 'dated' but nodded.

"So date Harry."

"Excuse me?" Draco stared at her incredulously.

"You heard me."

"I am not _dating_ Harry Potter." Draco scoffed.

"Why not?" Granger demanded, her tone surprisingly serious. "It won't break your precious rule."

"I don't want a man who's shagged nearly every witch and wizard in Britain either, never mind half the muggle population." It was his turn to smirk. "And do you really think Potter's never taken matters into his own hands on one of his few nights alone?"

"I don't think that really counts..." She started, but Draco interrupted.

He had once sworn that he would never tell anybody what had happened between he and Potter that one drunken night back at school and he honestly wasn't sure what possessed him to reveal it now and to one of Potter's best friends at that. Clearly the Gryffindor had never spoken of it and Draco knew at least one of those reasons without needing to ask, but the words seemed to slip out anyway.

"It's irrelevant anyway, Potter never goes back for seconds."

There was a stunned silence in the wake of his words.

"You..." She cleared her throat. "You and _Harry_...?"

Draco nodded. "Once, a long time ago."

"What happened?"

"We had too much to drink and ended up in bed together. Well it wasn't quite a bed, but you get my meaning" Draco kept his tone casual. "Like I said, it was a long time ago."

"When?"

Draco hesitated, but he'd already come this far, he saw no point in stopping now. Besides, Granger would never just let the subject drop now that he'd caught her interest.

"The night of our graduation."

"But wasn't he still with..." She broke off suddenly, her eyes going wide. "Oh... _Oh_!"

Draco knew from experience that prompting would do no good, she would tell him what her clever little mind was processing when she was good and ready and not a moment sooner.

"He broke up with Ginny the next day." She said finally.

Well that was news to him. Of course he'd known Potter had a girlfriend when they spent the night together and he'd known that a few months later Potter was officially back on the market. The possibility that Draco might have had something to do with the change in the golden boy's status, however, was... interesting, to say the least. As far as he knew, Potter hadn't had a relationship since. Hell, the Gryffindor hadn't even been on so much as a second date.

"It's guilt, it has to be." Granger's voice dragged him out of his thoughts.

"What is?"

"The reason he sleeps around so much. He feels bad for what he did to Ginny and now he thinks he doesn't deserve to be happy."

"He looks happy enough to me."

She shook her head. "You don't know him."

Draco had to agree with that statement so he stayed silent.

"I still don't understand how it happened, you both hated each other so much, I didn't think you'd ever get past it."

"I don't know." Draco shrugged it off. "Neither of us were thinking clearly and I suppose we felt odd about leaving Hogwarts. We ended up talking to each other like normal people for a change and I guess the tension had to go somewhere. One thing lead to another and..."

"What happened afterwards?" She asked quietly.

"We both woke up the next morning with hellish hangovers and a trunk load of regrets."

"How do you know he regretted it?"

"You mean aside from the fact he's a do-good Gryffindor who had just cheated on his perfect little girlfriend with his most hated rival, who also happened to be a boy?"

Granger frowned at him, but motioned for him to continue.

"He said so."

She nodded in understanding before asking, "Why did you regret it?"

Draco bit back the response that sat on the tip of his tongue, unwilling to give the witch that much power over him, though he was sure she at least suspected what his answer might be. ' _I didn't regret it_ ' he thought ' _not until Potter snapped, blamed me for everything and told me he never wanted to see me again_ '.

"Because he was Potter." Draco replied instead, as if that explained everything.

For reasons known only to herself, Granger accepted his answer, dropping the subject after that and continuing with her work as if the conversation had never happened. Draco, for his part, wished that he could dismiss the topic so easily. When Granger went out for her lunch at one o'clock, rather than join her, Draco remained at his desk, flipping through his collection of newspaper clippings. Most of the photos were paparzzi shots, taken from behind pot plants in clubs or through a long distance zoom outside restaurants, while a scant few were publicity shots taken at various charity functions, most of which had featured Potter as the guest of honour.

Draco skimmed past all of these to his favourite, the one that he had a second copy of hidden in his bedside drawer at home. It showed Potter with an unnamed man, one of the many muggles that the Gryffindor had seduced. The man had over-long blond hair, not too dissimilar from Draco's own except that it was a few shades darker and quite obviously dyed. His face was hidden, however, buried as it was in the curve of Potter's neck. The Gryffindor had his head thrown back in pleasure and though the picture only showed their upper bodies, the expression on his face made it more than clear that there was plenty going on out of shot. It was also the only photograph to date that showed Potter in any state of undress. He was still wearing his shirt, just about, but one shoulder was bare and the majority of his chest was exposed. The muggle looked nothing like Draco, not really, but if the lights were low and he squinted just a little, he could pretend. He could imagine that it was he who had put that rapturous expression on Potter's face and that particular fantasy had kept him warm on many a cold, lonely night since.

By the time Granger returned, the folder was safely back in his drawer and Draco was back at work, but his mind wasn't on it. Instead his thoughts were stuck three years in the past, fixed on the day that they had all graduated from Hogwarts.

^v^

 _Three years earlier..._

Draco wandered silently through the deserted corridors, one hand trailing along the stone wall to keep himself from falling. He was disgustingly drunk having had a few too many glasses of spiked punch at the graduation party in the great hall followed by a larger than average measure of Firewhiskey with the Slytherins before they all headed up to bed. On any normal evening, this quantity of alcohol would have left him snoring the second his head hit the pillow, but tonight was different. Tonight was his very last night at Hogwarts and despite his levels of intoxication he felt oddly restless and unable to settle. Deciding that a walk in the grounds might clear his head enough to let him sleep, Draco had headed out of his common room and into the castle.

It took him longer than it should have done to reach the entrance way, but he got there eventually, pushing open the large doors and stepping out into the moonlit grounds. Perhaps if he'd been sober he would have noticed that the door should have been locked, but as it was, he barely even noticed the set of steps he had to walk down in order to reach the front path. It was only when he missed the first one, nearly sending himself flying, that he remembered to watch where he was going. Giggling, Draco managed to make it down the rest of the steps without tripping and rewarded himself at the bottom by performing a little dance.

It was amazing how freeing it was to be drunk and unobserved, he thought to himself as he began trotting down the path towards the Quidditch pitch. In fact, he might need to try it more often. It was rather a shame that tonight was his last night at school and he wouldn't be able to repeat the experience. He could try it at the Manor, of course, but there would be hell to pay if his mother caught him and besides, he was pretty sure that drinking alone was a Bad Thing and after the whole Death Eater debacle, Draco had made a pact with himself to avoid Bad Things from now on, which meant no getting drunk all by himself, no matter how much fun it might be.

He had just come to this momentous conclusion when he reached the edge of the pitch, walking under the stands to look out over the neatly trimmed field. Forgetting the need to be quiet, Draco let out a loud whoop before hurtling across the grass. He stopped in the very centre, raising his arms out to the sides before spinning around as fast as he could, making the world whizz by at a dizzying rate. The next thing he knew he was lying flat on his back staring up at the sky, but that was ok because the sky was pretty, full of pretty sparkly stars. He was just starting to make up new names for constellations when the stars suddenly vanished as though a sheet had been pulled over them. He was still trying to come to terms with this unatural phenomena when the sheet spoke.

"Malfoy? Are you ok?"

"No." He replied petulantly. "The stars have gone out."

"Huh?" Said the sheet eloquently, turning to look.

"Oh no, they're back now." Draco giggled trying to lift his hand to point at the sky but knocking against something strangely solid instead.

There was an 'oof' sound and then a thud. Curiously, Draco turned his head to investigate, only to find himself being stared at by a pair of shining eyes hidden behind some startlingly familiar glasses.

"Potter?"

"Why did you hit me?"

"Didn't mean to, I thought you were a sheet. Sorry."

"You apologised." Potter was still staring at him.

"So?"

"You never apologise."

"Of course I do. Everyone apologises. Except maybe the Dark Lord but he's dead now, so I guess maybe he should have apologised sometimes. Thank you for that, by the way." Draco babbled happily, still staring into the eyes which he knew would be a stunning shade of green if the light had been better.

"You never apologise to _me_." Potter clarified. "And, umm, you're welcome, I guess. Though I did kinda think you were on his side and might actually be kinda pissed that he was dead and all."

"I didn't like him very much." Draco confided in a mock whisper. "He was a bit of a bastard, really."

"Er, yeah, I know. Hence the destroying him thing."

Draco nodded sagely, feeling the odd pull of his hair as it caught against the blades of grass behind his head. "That was a good idea."

"Wasn't my idea." Potter mumbled, before abruptly switching conversational topics. "Are you drunk?"

"Yes, I am." Draco replied automatically. "Really quite drunk, in fact. Are you?"

Potter nodded vehemently. "Very drunk. Very, very, verrrry drunk."

"You look hot in the moonlight, did you know that?" Draco said by way of response.

"I... What?!"

"You look hot." Draco repeated slowly. "In the moonlight."

"Uh, thanks. Erm, you too."

Potter didn't seem to know if Draco was being serious or not so he beamed at the Gryffindor in encouragement. Potter looked slightly taken aback by the expression, before cautiously returning the smile.

"So what are you going to do after school?" Draco asked, changing the subject again.

"Auror training I guess. Maybe move in with Ginny. Probably get married in a few years, have a couple of kids. You?"

Potter did not sound madly excited by the life that lay before him and Draco found himself wondering why that was. It sounded like the perfect life for a Gryffindor hero, though of course it didn't sound particularly appealing to Draco. In fact it sounded rather tame and boring, but he didn't think it would be polite to say so. Instead he changed the subject once more, ignoring Potter's question.

"So this is our last night at Hogwarts. Weird isn't it?"

"Kinda. I never really thought I'd come back again after sixth year though, this feels like a bit of a bonus."

"I s'pose it's a bonus for all of us. I already did my seventh year once. Not that it was much of a seventh year..."

"I bet it was fine for you with all your Death Eater friends as teachers."

"It wasn't a very good learning environment, though. Good for hexes and curses, not so much for books and study."

"Not you too."

"Not me too what?"

"Books." Potter replied as if that explained everything.

"Um?" Draco's forehead wrinkled in confusion as he tried to work out what part of the conversation he'd missed.

"Hermione's been talking about books _all_ day. She just got accepted into the Archive office at the Ministry. Apparently they have lots of books, she's quite excited."

"Granger's working in Archives?" Draco asked, his voice full of dismay.

"Yep. Why do you care?"

"But _I'm_ working in Archives!" Draco whined.

"You're going to be working with Hermione?" Potter snickered. "Oh she's just going to _love_ that. I hope you like research."

"Of course I like research, that's why I applied to work there." Draco told the Gryffindor waspishly, still irritated at the thought of the know-it-all witch already stealing his thunder in his new job.

Potter's eyes suddenly widened comically. "You'd better not steal her away from Ron. Just 'cos you both like boring things like books and research and stuff doesn't mean she'll leave him for you!"

"Like I'd ever want Granger!" Draco was scandalised by the mere thought. "Besides, I'm gay."

"You're..." Potter's voice cracked and he had to swallow a few times before his voice seemed able to continue working. "Really?"

"No, I just thought I'd make it up for the hell of it."

"Oh, ok..."

"Of _course_ I'm really gay, you prat."

"What's it like?" Potter asked, nibbling nervously on his lower lip.

"What? Being gay?"

For a second he thought Potter was going to ignore him, but then the Gryffindor spoke, so quietly that Draco had to lean closer to hear him.

"No, I mean... what's it like... kissing other boys?"

"Want to find out?" Draco asked with a wink.

"Maybe." Potter mumbled and Draco thought that the Gryffindor might be blushing, though it was difficult to tell in the dim light.

"It's not much different from kissing girls." Draco told him. "Only it's harder, rougher. Do you like it hard and rough, Potter?"

"Yes..." Potter whispered, his gaze fixed on Draco's mouth.

Smirking, Draco ran his tongue over his lips, noticing the way Potter's eyes followed the movement.

"Do you want to kiss me, Potter?"

"Yes..."

"Then kiss me." Draco told him huskily.

Slowly, Potter inched forward, closing the gap between them. Draco didn't really expect the Gryffindor to go through with it, but he waited curiously to see what he might do next. Except Potter didn't stop and the closer he came to Draco the harder it was to force himself to lie still. It was only at times like this, when he was drunk as a sailor and feeling a little over-emotional that Draco ever allowed himself to contemplate some of his more complex feelings for Potter. The ones that left him panting and trembling with lust rather than anger. He wanted Potter, whether he allowed himself to admit it or not, and now the Gryffindor was so very, very close...

Only an inch or two at most separated them now and Potter was still moving. Draco's eyes fell shut of their own accord and then finally the Gryffindor closed the last of the distance between them. Their lips met and he melted. He had meant to take it easy, let Potter set the pace, but he couldn't do it. He'd wanted this too long to simply lie back and take whatever he was given. Without his permission, his hands drifted up to tangle in thick messy hair, preventing the Gryffindor from escaping, not that he seemed to be trying to go anywhere. Potter's own hands had managed to find purchase on Draco's hips, pulling him bodily closer until they were pressed against each other from their chests down to their knees. Encouraged, Draco let his tongue brush against Potter's lips, wondering as he did so whether it would be granted entrance or bitten off. When the Gryffindor opened his mouth, inviting him in, he nearly moaned aloud, not quite able to believe that this was actually happening.

His hands twisted more firmly in Potter's hair as he attempted to devour the other boy with his lips, exploring every inch of his mouth. Their tongues stroked together as they moved even closer, pressing themselves against each other. Without really meaning to, Draco rolled them over, sprawling across Potter's prone form as he broke their kiss, only to trail his lips down the other boy's throat. The other boy whimpered as Draco bit down lightly, sucking at Potter's pulse point, before moving back up and fastening their lips together again. The Gryffindor ground up against him in response and Draco moaned as he felt the deliciously hard length pressing against him. Without thinking, he shifted their position, lining up their hips before grinding down harshly.

"Still like it rough?" Draco whispered against Potter's lips.

"Yes! Merlin, Malfoy, don't stop!"

"Wasn't going to." He muttered, shifting again to give himself space to slide a hand between their bodies.

He vaguely wondered if he should ask for permission, but hadn't Potter just told him not to stop? Pressing their lips together again, Draco's hand began tearing at the fastenings of the Gryffindor's trousers, quickly working his way beneath the layers of fabric to Potter's erection. He still half expected the other boy to panic and call a halt to the proceedings, but as soon as Draco's fingers wrapped around his length, the other boy threw his head back and keened.

"Merlin, you're beautiful." He whispered, his eyes locked on Potter's face as he writhed beneath Draco's ministrations.

The Gryffindor said nothing in response, but suddenly his hands were no longer idle. Latching onto Draco's shirt, he nearly tore the buttons off in his desperation to get to the skin beneath. As soon as Draco's chest was exposed, Potter's mouth was there, kissing and sucking at the smooth flesh. At the same time, his hands slid lower, quickly unfastening Draco's trousers and working his hand inside.

"I've never done this before." Potter whispered against Draco's throat, even as his fingers began stroking up and down Draco's length.

"I know. You're doing fine." His voice was rough as he tried to stop himself thrusting into the Gryffindor's firm grip.

"I'm not a virgin, you know."

Draco suddenly found himself biting back a giggle. "Oh?"

"I'm not." Potter drew back slightly to look at him, his hands stilling on Draco's cock.

"Ok, ok, I believe you." He pacified the Gryffindor quickly, needing him to start moving again.

"Good." The hand continued its ministrations and Draco moaned.

"Though I bet you've never had sex with a boy before." Draco retorted before he could help it, kicking himself when not only did Potter stop, he pulled back.

"No." He replied, his eyes wide. "Have you?"

"Yes." Draco only just managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"Does it feel good?"

"Well, obviously." This time Draco couldn't hold back his eye roll. "Why, do you want to find out for yourself?"

"Maybe." The Gryffindor bit his lip, looking away.

"Really?" Draco swallowed hard, surely Potter couldn't mean...

He tried to catch the other boy's gaze, but the Gryffindor was resolutely looking anywhere but at Draco. For a moment he wondered how best to sugar-coat his next question before giving up and just blurting it out.

"So you want to know what it feels like to fuck a man...?" His voice turned husky. "Or to feel a man fucking you?"

"I..." Even in the dim light of the moon Draco could see Potter blushing. "The second one."

Never in his wildest fantasies had he ever imagined that Potter could be anything other than rigidly straight. The kisses alone had been more than he'd ever thought possible, but this...?

"Will you show me?" Potter asked shyly.

Oh, _Merlin_. "Yes. If you're sure."

The Gryffindor nodded once, before reaching forward again, wrapping his hand around Draco's nearly painfully hard cock.

"Fuck." Draco groaned. "Stop, you have to stop."

The Gryffindor let go immediately, his expression hurt and confused. "I'm sorry, I thought... I thought you liked it."

"Of course I like it." Draco snapped before taking a deep breath, reigning in his wayward emotions and softening his tone. "I like it a lot. Too much, in fact."

"Oh." Potter licked his lips nervously. "So what do we do now?"

"First, we need to prepare you."

"How do we do that?"

"Like this." Draco told him, ducking down before the Gryffindor could react and pressing his lips against the tip of the other boy's erection.

"Fuck." Potter whispered.

Smirking, Draco lapped at the head for a moment, before sucking as much as he could manage into his mouth. Potter moaned, his fingers drifting down to tangle in Draco's hair. With his free hand, Draco shoved at the Gryffindor's trousers until they lay abandoned on the grass beside them. Settling himself more comfortably in the space between the other boy's thighs, he began to suck in earnest, bobbing his head rapidly.

Needing more skin on skin contact, Draco let his hands wander up over Potter's chest. When the Gryffindor's shirt got in the way he simply gripped the fabric between his fingers and pulled, tearing the material apart and sending buttons flying into the grass. Without halting the movement of his mouth for even a moment, Draco's hands explored the contours of the other boy's chest, tugging on each nipple in turn before smoothing his palms over the raised buds.

The Gryffindor's responses were delightfully erotic, the way he moved his hips, the way he gasped every time Draco flicked his tongue just so, the way he clutched at Draco's head, his desperation and need evident in the way he held him. When he deemed that the Gryffindor was ready, he pulled away to wandlessly conjure a handful of lubricant, returning to his previous activity before stroking one slick finger between Potter's cheeks and over his entrance. Just as he'd expected, the Gryffindor froze, much of his earlier tension returning in an instant.

"Relax." Draco told him, pressing a line of kisses across the Gryffindor's hip. "I won't hurt you."

Inexplicably, that seemed to be all Potter needed to hear and a moment later he had forced himself to unwind. Returning to the Gryffindor's cock, Draco sucked lightly as he pressed one finger inside Potter, echoing the other boy's moan of pleasure at the intrusion.

"Ok?" Draco asked, this time crawling up to lie beside the Gryffindor, meeting his eyes.

"Yes. Don't... don't stop."

"Wasn't planning on it." Draco told him, leaning forward to kiss him as he added a second finger.

Slowly, Draco slid his digits in and out, stroking and stretching with each gentle thrust. Soon Potter was moaning loudly, his hips grinding down against Draco's hand, wordlessly begging for more.

"Merlin, you have no idea how beautiful you look." Draco whispered, unable to stem the flow of words as he watched the Gryffindor writhing on the grass beside him.

"Please..." Potter murmured, opening his eyes and meeting Draco's gaze head on. "Please, Malfoy, fuck me..."

Draco groaned, his heart pounding raggedly as he moved over the Gryffindor, removing his fingers and positioning himself at the other boy's entrance. For just a moment, he hesitated, the magnitude of what they were about to do hitting him full force. This was not just a one night stand that could easily be forgotten in the bright light of day. This was Potter, this was...

The Gryffindor shifted then, pushing upwards until Draco breached him and that was all it took for Draco's fleeting flash of conscience to evaporate. His thoughts scattered as he pressed carefully forward the rest of the way, sheathing himself completely in Potter's tight heat.

"Merlin, Potter, you feel so good." Draco whispered, trembling with the effort it took to remain still long enough for the Gryffindor to adjust.

The other boy moaned in response, his legs wrapping around Draco's waist and drawing him even deeper. "Please, Malfoy."

He knew what Potter was asking for, even if he didn't know it himself. Pulling out slightly, he thrust forward slowly making the Gryffindor cry out, his hands gripping Draco's hips hard enough to bruise.

"Ok?" Draco gasped, thrusting again.

"Yes. Don't stop... Merlin..." Potter's head fell back, his hips bucking up to meet Draco's downward stroke.

Shifting his angle slightly Draco searched for the spot inside the Gryffindor that he knew would prompt even more of those breathless pleas for more. When he found it, Potter's reaction was even better than he could have imagined. The other boy's back arched, his whole body shuddering as he cried out Draco's name.

There was no holding back after that. Draco pounded the Gryffindor into the grass, relishing every moan and gasp of pleasure that he drew from the boy beneath him. He'd done this before, but it had never felt like _this_. His whole body felt as though it might erupt into flames at any moment, yet he still needed more. Shoving his hand between them, Draco began to stroke Potter's leaking erection, pulling even more beautifully sensual sounds from the Gryffindor. It was nearly more than he could handle, but then Potter was coming, his whole body trembling with the force of it, and Draco no longer needed to hold back. With a hoarse shout, he emptied himself into the other boy before collapsing bonelessly on top of him.

It was a long moment before Draco could find the energy to move off of the Gryffindor and even longer before either of them could find the strength to do more than stare up at the stars sucking in deep panting breaths. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it was Potter who moved first, reaching lazily for his discarded clothing.

"That was..." Potter whispered breathlessly, struggling back into his jeans, though he showed no other signs of the imminent departure Draco was fully expecting.

"Yeah." He agreed quietly, refastening his own trousers before taking a chance and pulling the unresisting Gryffindor back into his arms. "It was."

He couldn't quite hide his surprise when the other boy curled up against his side, his head pillowed on Draco's chest, but he was too tired to question it. As he drifted off to sleep, Potter still wrapped tightly in his embrace, he was vaguely aware that this had been one of the best nights of his life. Perhaps Hogwarts was over, but if this was a sign of things to come, maybe the future wouldn't be too bleak after all.

^v^

The first thing Draco became aware of when he awoke the following morning was the horrific amount of light battering at his closed eyelids. The next was the fact that he felt oddly cold despite the warm shape pressed up against him. Squinting, Draco tried to open his eyes enough to work out where he was. It took a moment but suddenly it all came hurtling back to him. His drunken walk down to the Quidditch pitch, running into Potter, the kisses, the caresses and... oh Merlin. He nearly moaned aloud as the recollected feel of thrusting into Potter's hot body sent an intense flash of desire through him. The Gryffindor was still asleep, it seemed, sprawled across him with his bare chest pressed against Draco's. He had a nearly overwhelming urge to run his fingers through Potter's hair, but he resisted, certain that waking him up would be a bad move. Instead he began shifting slightly, attempting to edge his way out from beneath the sleeping lion. He had almost managed it when Potter stirred. Draco froze immediately, holding his breath as he wondered how the Gryffindor would react upon waking up at dawn in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, cuddled up to his enemy.

It took Potter a while to centre himself, giving Draco plenty of time to mentally debate whether he wanted the Gryffindor to remember what had happened or not. Of course, it made little difference what Draco wanted, which was rather fortunate in a way as he still hadn't come to any sort of decision by the time the other boy finally decided to speak.

"Malfoy?" His voice was dangerously low.

"Morning, Potter." Draco kept his voice light, waiting for the explosion.

"What happened last night?"

Draco bit back a scathing retort, keeping his voice emotionless instead. "What do you remember?"

"Not a lot." Potter admitted. "What happened to my shirt?"

Draco shrugged, deciding to play dumb for the moment at least. "Maybe we had a fight?"

"It certainly feels like we did." Potter winced as he shifted, rolling off of Draco to lie beside him, staring up at the rapidly brightening sky.

He wasn't sure what to say to that, knowing exactly why Potter ached so much this morning but worried it might spoil the fragile harmony between them if he said so.

"I had the weirdest dream." Potter spoke again, sitting up and beginning to refasten the few buttons that remained attached to the front of his shirt.

"Oh?"

"You were there and we were..." The Gryffindor stopped mid sentence, his eyes flying to Draco's face where they focused immediately on his mouth. "...Kissing."

Draco licked his lips automatically, his heart beginning to pound unevenly. Merlin but when Potter looked at him like that...

"It wasn't a dream, was it?"

All Draco could do was shake his head.

"We...? And you...? FUCK!" The other boy got unsteadily to his feet, backing away quickly.

Nearly tripping over himself in his hurry, Draco did likewise, holding out his hands to the Gryffindor. "Potter, wait..."

He shook his head manically back and forth. "You bastard. I always knew you were a peverted fucker, but this...?"

Draco wanted to argue back, after all, hadn't it been Potter who'd kissed him? But he couldn't seem to make his mouth work.

"You're disgusting, Malfoy, and you'd better stay the hell away from me. I'm glad we're leaving school. I never _EVER_ want to see or speak to you again."

With one final venomous glare, Potter spun on his heel and stormed off towards the school. Draco watched him go until he was out of sight, then followed in his footsteps, righting his clothing on the way.

He saw Potter only once after that, back in London on Platform 9 3/4. Draco had been searching for his mother through the crush of parents, students and baggage when he found his gaze caught and held by the Gryffindor. For one long moment they stared at each other and Draco watched as a host of emotions played across Potter's face. Some he recognised; confusion, hatred, anger, some he didn't, but the final expression that twisted Potter's features was a heartbreaking mix of regret and longing. At least, that's what Draco wanted to believe he saw as the Gryffindor turned away, breaking their connection and vanishing into the crowd.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with JK's toys.

Warnings: Contains SLASH. Rated M for a reason.

 **Breaking All The Rules**

 **Chapter 2**

Present day:

That night, Draco slept badly, his dreams filled with half remembered conversations and the hint of kisses recalled from so long ago. He hadn't dreamt of Potter in months and it left him feeling frustrated and unsettled. It was enough to throw off his entire morning routine making him late enough for work that Granger was already halfway through her morning coffee when he arrived. She said nothing of it however, greeting him as usual before continuing with her work. Suspicious, it wasn't until Draco sat down at his desk that he realised why. On top of his pile of post sat a magazine with a note attached in Granger's neat writing. It was a copy of Witch Weekly and Draco didn't need to ask to know why she had given it to him. The photograph on the front was of Potter, who had apparently finally given in to the magazine's increasingly desperate pleas for him to pose for a cover shoot. The tag line splashed across the picture read 'The Boy Who Lived, laid bare! He destroyed the most dangerous Dark Lord in recent history and he can give you the best sex you've ever had, but who is the real Harry Potter? - His most _revealing_ interview yet, inside this issue!'. As casually as he could, Draco flipped open the magazine, flicking through until he reached the article. The interview was spread across several pages but Draco barely noticed the text. The accompanying pictures were breathtaking and he found himself biting his lip in a desperate struggle to hold back a moan. The magazine had really gone to town on what they clearly knew might be their one and only chance. They had dressed Potter up in all sorts of outfits from a beautifully tailored set of designer dress robes to Quidditch gear, the tight leather breaches clinging to his muscular thighs. The Gryffindor looked incredible in every shot, whether he was smiling and waving or pouting seductively at the camera. Draco found himself pouring over each and every picture, noticing everything from the way Potter moved in each shot to the varying nuances of his expressions all of which seemed to call to Draco like a siren.

"Have you seen the centre-fold yet?" Granger asked casually, breaking him out of his Potter induced haze.

"What?" He questioned, not quite able to tear his eyes from the picture of Potter dressed in his old Hogwarts uniform, the sinful expression on his face bringing a whole new meaning to the words 'naughty school boy'.

"The centre-fold." Granger repeated, her voice dripping with amusement. "I think you'll enjoy it."

Not quite sure what she was getting at, Draco turned the page anyway. For one long moment he merely stared at the picture in front of him, before his mouth fell open in shock.

"Fuck..."

He heard Granger chuckle, but he couldn't take it in. He had never even imagined that Potter would consent to a picture like this, but there it was, right there on his desk. Harry Potter, sprawled across a huge bed wearing nothing but a smirk, his modesty protected only by the very corner of a green silk sheet draped artfully across one of his thighs. The startling colour mirrored the exact shade of his eyes as well as immediately drawing the reader's attention to the bulge only just hidden from view beneath the material. The Gryffindor was looking straight at the camera, making it seem as though he was staring right at Draco. As he watched, Potter tongue poked out, running slowly over his full lower lip while at the same time he stroked one hand over his own chest, tweaking one of his nipples, before dropping down to catch slightly at the sheet, revealing another centimetre or so of tanned skin. Draco was being seduced by a fucking photograph and if he didn't look away now he had the feeling that Granger would get to see a lot more than she'd bargained for when she'd given him the magazine.

"What on earth made him agree to this?" Draco asked, finally tearing his gaze away from the spread in front of him.

Granger shook her head, a pained expression on her face. "I don't know. He didn't even tell us he was doing it, just sent us an advance copy."

"I thought Potter hated publicity." Draco murmured.

"He does. Or he did. I don't know... I'm worried about him, Draco. This isn't like him."

"Maybe he did it to get into the photographer's pants." Draco suggested, his tone coming out rather more bitter than he'd intended.

"He's already done that. It's Justin Finch-Fletchley's work." Granger met his gaze, pinning him to the spot. "I think Harry needs help. And I think you're the one to help him."

"You have got to be kidding me." Draco responded, though he knew full well that she was completely serious.

"He hasn't been the same since that night with you..."

"So it's my fault he's a shameless slut?" Draco asked incredulously.

Granger flinched. "That's not what I meant. I just think you're the only person who can help him."

"I started it so I need to finish it?"

"Something like that."

"It's not going to happen, Granger."

"Scared?"

"Don't even think about trying to manipulate me like that. I've got better things to do with my time than humiliate myself chasing after Harry bloody Potter."

"Fine then, let's make it interesting. I bet you that you can't convince Harry to break his precious rules and go out with you again."

"Let's not beat around the bush, Granger. You're betting I can't get him into bed again." Draco retorted bluntly.

She inclined her head in silent acknowledgment.

"So what do I get if I win?"

"You mean besides 'the best sex it is possible to have'?" She quoted the magazine with a smirk.

"Yes." Draco gritted, trying to keep his gaze from straying to the magazine still spread open on his desk.

"How about the rest of the pictures from the centre-fold shoot? The ones that didn't make it into the magazine."

"How would you manage that?" Draco found himself asking despite himself. "And what would your precious Potter say if he found out?"

Granger shrugged. "He posed for the pictures, he can't complain if people see them."

"He can complain if _I_ see them."

"And you care what Harry thinks, do you?"

"No." He denied, pretending he hadn't seen her incredulous expression before adding. "And if I lose?"

"You agree to break _your_ 'rule' and go on a date with Simon."

"Granger, I am not interested in Simon."

"Then you'd better win the bet, hadn't you?"

"I haven't agreed to it yet."

"But you will." She grinned at him.

"You seem rather sure of that."

"You think I can't see straight through that silly rule of yours?"

"It's not 'silly' it's..." He started, but Granger continued as though he hadn't spoken.

"Clearly Harry wasn't the only one affected by your night together. You still want him and don't even try denying it. I saw the way you looked at that photograph, remember."

"I can't win." Draco said quietly, not quite able to bring himself to contradict her. "Maybe it affected me more than I want to admit, but the only effect it had on him was to make him aware that he was capable of cheating. He probably hates me even more for that."

"Except Harry really _isn't_ the type to cheat, no matter how much he's had to drink. He wouldn't have cheated on her with anyone else. You're the only one who could have turned his head like that. You've _always_ been the only one."

"You're wrong." Draco wouldn't let himself believe what Granger was saying, he couldn't.

"No I'm not and you know it whether you want to admit it or not."

"It's irrelevant anyway. Even if you're right, if Potter's still kicking himself for cheating on Weasley he's not going to suddenly forgive himself just because I decide I want another shot with him. He won't allow himself to be happy now and he certainly won't allow himself to be happy with me of all people. Not when it was me that he cheated with."

Granger looked slightly startled before her expression turned pensive. "You know him better than I thought."

"No, I've just been spending far too much time around Gryffindors. You'd be exactly the same if you'd done what Potter did."

"Perhaps. And you're right about Harry, of course, except for one thing."

"And what's that?"

"He can't resist you."

"You're deluded."

"Then prove me wrong."

"Now why would I do that? You seriously expect me to accept a bet I have every expectation of losing?"

"Yes. Because deep down you know that I'm right." She ignored him shaking his head, pressing her point home. "And because the reward if you win is worth the risk."

"The risk of total humiliation for the chance at getting some naughty photos? I don't think so."

"Not for the photos." Granger contradicted, just as he'd known she would. "For Harry."

He shouldn't even be letting himself consider this, he knew that. It was stupid and dangerous, but the thought of another night with Potter, a chance to run his hands over all the bare skin in that Merlin forsaken picture without the haze of drunkeness dulling his senses... It was his most secret and desperate desire, but could he handle it if Potter turned him down, if Granger was wrong?

"I can help you." She offered. "Plant the idea in Harry's head that you might be interested if he could get over himself enough to ask?"

"Does that not count as cheating?" Draco asked sarcastically.

Granger shrugged. "If it helps Harry."

"I've never known someone so determined to lose their own bet." Draco commented dryly.

"What do I have to lose? Besides the bet, of course."

"Potter's friendship if he realises that not only has he been set up by his best friend but that said friend also handed over a packet of naked photographs to his sworn enemy?"

"I know you won't let anyone else see those pictures."

He didn't bother contradicting her, knowing that as much as he'd like to think he could use the shots to humiliate Potter, he never would. If nothing else, he was far too possessive. Potter should be _his_ damn it. He hated each and every paper clipping that he'd kept for that very reason. Even the picture with the blond muggle made his skin crawl when he allowed himself to really think about it. The fact that nearly every witch and wizard in Britain would have seen Potter almost naked by the end of the week made him feel physically ill. Though of course, a large number of them had already seen the Gryffindor completely naked, had touched him, kissed him, fucked him... Draco had to force his fists to unclench before he could respond to Granger with even a semblance of calm in his tone.

"He won't know that. And he wouldn't believe it even if you told him."

"Please, Draco."

He shook his head, but it was an empty gesture. He'd known from the start that he would end up giving in to her, just as she had known it. She wasn't blind, she knew that offering him a chance with Potter would have been more than enough to convince him. He knew that failure was still a near certainty, but how could he not try? How could he live with himself if he turned down the opportunity of having someone like Granger on his side helping him?

"Alright, you're on."

Her eyes lit up and a second later she was across the room, hugging him tightly.

"You won't regret it!"

"I already do." Was all he said in response, wrapping one arm around her shoulders in a half-hearted embrace.

^v^

A couple of days later, Granger arrived at the office with a determined expression on her face, clutching a large manilla envelope.

"Morning, Draco, I have a proposition for you."

"Another one?" He arched an eyebrow at her as she crossed the room to perch on the edge of his desk.

"It's related to the first one." She assured him.

"Why does that not surprise me? Go on then, what is it?"

"We're having a few friends round on Saturday night, you should come."

"Potter will be there, I assume?"

"Naturally."

Draco sighed. Granger had been trying to convince him to come to her little gatherings for the past two years and he had always refused. Aside from not wanting to spend the evening with a bunch of Weasleys, he had also been avoiding Potter. The Gryffindor had made it more than clear that he did not want to see him ever again and Draco had complied. He had no desire to see that all too familiar look of unadulterated loathing directed at him from one of the very few people who had the power to hurt him. Aside from the occasional sighting across a crowded room at Ministry functions, Draco had stuck to his resolution. Now, however, that particular rule was going to have to be broken.

"How about I provide an incentive?" Granger suggested when Draco remained silent.

"What kind of incentive?"

In response she held out the envelope.

"What is it?"

"Open it and see." She smirked.

Cautiously, Draco did as she asked, tipping the contents on to his desk.

"Merlin..." He moaned, staring down at the pair of photos Granger had given him.

If the picture in the magazine had been hot, these two were meltingly so, not least because Draco knew they hadn't been seen by nearly so many people. Again he found himself wondering what on earth had possessed Potter to agree to the shoot, but he was soon distracted from his thoughts by the images in front of him. The first showed Potter in what appeared to be a Quidditch locker room, sitting on one of the benches, polishing his broom. He had one leg on the floor and the other propped on the seat, leaving his legs spread wide. The action of his fingers over the handle was intensely provocative, particularly as the positioning of the broom and his hands were the only things protecting his modesty from the camera. Again, Potter was staring straight into the lens, his expression suggesting that he was enjoying himself far more than he should be, given his current activity. It was more than enough to leave Draco hard and aching in any case and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, hoping Granger wouldn't notice.

The second picture was just as bad, if not worse. Potter had been photographed in the shower, only this time, he had his back to the camera, his arse on show to anyone who cared to look and Draco certainly cared to look. The shower was on and Potter had his face turned to avoid the spray, looking back over his shoulder. His eyes were fixed on the lens as though he'd been surprised by the photographer. Water cascaded over his shoulders while droplets chased each other down his back. Draco found himself fixated on one particular drop which was sliding slowly down Potter's spine. As he watched, a second droplet combined with it, increasing its speed until it disappeared between Potter's cheeks.

"This is... They're..." Draco cleared his throat roughly, forcing his attention away from the pictures and up to focus on Granger. "I haven't won yet."

"This isn't the prize. I've got a dozen more where these came from."

"Then why...?"

"Call it a sweetener." She grinned at him. "So you'll come on Saturday?"

Draco swallowed hard, trying to resist the temptation to look back down at the photographs. It felt wrong to have them, as though he were invading Potter's privacy, yet surely the fact that he'd been given them by one of the Gryffindor's closest friends gave him as much of a right to them as anyone. Still, he felt as though he should give them back, or at the very least, leave them in the file in his desk drawer. He definitely shouldn't take them home to wank over. Damn Granger for being so perceptive, damn her for realising how much he still wanted Potter even after all this time and damn her for offering him the chance at getting everything he had ever wanted on a fucking plate.

Draco sighed. "Alright, count me in."

"Great! Eight o'clock at the house, you know the address, right?"

He nodded. He was going to regret this, he was certain, but how could he refuse?

^v^

Draco hovered near the back of the room, watching the party rather than attending it. There was a surprising mix of people, several of whom Draco knew from work, others he recognised from school, while still more he had never met in his life. Granger's sitting room come dining room was a large space at the best of times, but with most of the furniture pushed back against the walls, the area seemed to be double its usual size. Even so, the house wasn't quite big enough to get lost in, much as Draco wished it was. He knew the exact moment when Potter arrived, striding into the room as though he owned the place. Still, it was unerving how quickly the Gryffindor's gaze found him, half hidden behind a pot plant as he was. For just a moment, Draco wondered if Granger had given him a heads up, despite their agreement that his presence should be a surprise, but then he saw the shock reflected in the green eyes and he knew that Potter had not been forewarned.

For one timeless moment they stared at each other and, for Draco at least, it seemed as though the whole room had faded away leaving nothing and no one but them. Then someone called Potter's name and the spell was broken. Looking away, Draco decided to make a run for it before things could become even more awkward, bets and promises be damned. Slowly he began edging his way towards the door.

"Don't even think about it." He froze at the sound of Granger's reprimand.

"Think about what?" He wasn't sure why he was trying to bluff it out when it had never worked with her before.

"Leaving." She grinned at him. "There's someone I want you to meet."

"Granger..." He warned, but she had already turned away, dragging him across the room by his wrist.

"Draco, this is Jeremy, one of Ron's Quidditch friends. Jeremy, this is Draco, we work together in Archives at the Ministry."

"Nice to meet you." Draco replied with a tight smile.

"And you." The man gave him a curious look while Draco had to bite back a frown of irritation.

"Well I'll leave you two to get better acquainted." Granger beamed at them both before disappearing into the crowd.

Draco had half a mind to send a hex winging its way after his charming hostess. True, she had not 'introduced' him to Potter as he'd expected, but she must have known that Jeremy was strictly on his no-go list. Besides, wasn't he here to seduce the Gryffindor hero, not one of his less attractive past conquests?

"So did you meet Hermione at the Ministry then?"

"Actually I went to school with her." Draco replied politely, drumming up all his Malfoy training in party etiquette to stop himself from just turning around and walking away from the conversation.

"Oh really?" The man seemed oddly excited. "So you knew Ron then too?"

"Yes." He forced himself to only add the 'unfortunately' in his head.

"So I guess that must mean you knew Harry Potter too?"

And that explained the excitement. Draco really was going to curse Granger at the next available opportunity.

"Yes." Draco repeated, this time allowing the edge in his voice to slip through.

"What was he like back then?" Jeremy practically drooled.

The man was either stupid, oblivious or both and Draco's money was on the latter. Of course, Jeremy's appearance on the front page of the prophet had only been a few weeks ago and there was every likelihood that he still believed he might be the one to turn Potter from his playboy lifestyle, but that was beside the point. The boy was clearly an idiot and Draco hoped that even the Gryffindor hero would have better taste than that if, for some startling reason, he suddenly decided to change his ways.

"He was an arrogant wanker just like he is now." Draco told Jeremy, dropping all pretence of civility. "Excuse me."

That was it, he told himself as he headed out into the hall. They would just have to engineer another meeting between he and Potter. Perhaps he could wear the other man down over time. Right now he was leaving and this time not even Granger could stop him. Determinedly, he strode down the corridor towards the front door, hesitating for what he told himself would only be a moment when he heard a familiar voice coming from the kitchen.

"Harry, you can't leave yet!"

He nearly laughed aloud, wondering how Granger was coping with the fact that _both_ of her special guests were attempting to escape. He was about to turn away when Potter replied, choking off Draco's amusement at the root.

"Maybe if you invited a few new people next time..."

"You mean people you haven't already screwed and discarded?"

Draco winced at Granger's words. They seemed harsh, especially for her.

"Hermione, don't be like that..."

He was about to move on, he really was, having no intention of eavesdropping on a conversation that was only likely to cause him pain, when Granger's next words stopped him in his tracks.

"I can be however I want. Especially since I _did_ invite someone new for you."

"Who?" Potter demanded.

"Draco Malfoy."

There was a long silence during which Draco desperately wished he could see the expressions that were sure to be racing across Potter's face.

"I'm not interested in Malfoy." Potter spoke finally, his voice tense.

The words were hardly a surprise and Draco knew it was ridiculous to take them to heart, but he couldn't quite ignore the pang in his chest at Potter's emotionless dismissal of him.

"Why not? You have to admit he's gorgeous and you've never had him before, have you?" Granger pressed.

Draco waited for the denial, but it never came. Not that Potter's next words made him feel any better.

"I'm not interested. He's still a Death Eater bastard."

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

Granger sounded shocked at Potter's vehemence and Draco wondered if she was beginning to come around to his point of view. Potter certainly had no interest in him anymore, if he ever had in the first place beyond drunken bicuriosity.

"No, I don't." There was a heavy sigh which Draco assumed had come from Potter. "It's just... it's complicated."

"How so? He's hot, you're hot, you shag, you move on. I fail to see the complexity."

Draco nearly snorted. Granger was rarely that blunt about sex but when she was it never failed to surprise him. Clearly the same was true of her friend who exhaled sharply in response.

"Hermione!"

"What? That's what you do isn't it? Meet attractive men and woman, take them to bed and then bid them farewell. You haven't been out with the same person twice since Hogwarts."

"I know you don't approve..."

"It doesn't matter whether I approve or not, it's your life. I'm just providing suggestions after you criticised my choice of party guest."

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I didn't mean it like that, I just... I can't... Not with Malfoy."

"Why?" Granger demanded again.

"Because he's..."

"Hermione have you seen George?"

Draco nearly screamed with frustration as Granger's fiance walked in through what must have been another door, effectively killing the conversation stone dead. Moving further down the corridor lest he be caught listening at keyholes, Draco was vaguely contemplating whether he should return to the living room after all or continue to attempt a furtive exit whilst Granger was distracted when Potter walked out into the hall. He stopped short when he realised who he was sharing the narrow space with.

"Malfoy."

"Potter." Draco nodded in greeting, trying not to let himself notice how good Potter looked.

It was the first time he'd been this close to the Gryffindor since the morning after _that_ night and given everything that had happened in the last week, from the bet to the photos, Draco felt just a little bit overwhelmed at the other man's proximity.

"I've not seen you at one of these before." Potter commented casually.

"It's not really my scene."

"So what made you change your mind?"

"Granger can be quite persuasive when she wants to be."

"Don't I know it." The Gryffindor seemed to be speaking mostly to himself. "Can I get you a drink or something?"

Draco sucked in a startled breath, but otherwise managed to keep his emotions hidden. He was half tempted to ask what an 'or something' was, but he didn't think it would be the wisest move given the precarious nature of their apparent truce. After all, it was still far more likely to be an unforgivable than a pleasurable something.

"A drink would be nice, thank you."

Potter nodded, ducking back into the kitchen and returning a moment later with two bottles of beer. He passed one to Draco who thanked him before falling silent again.

"It's been a long time..." Potter said finally.

'And who's fault is that?' Draco wanted to retort but instead he went for, "It has."

"Hermione's trying to set us up." Potter blurted suddenly.

"What makes you say that?" Draco choked out after a moment, thrown by the Gryffindor's blunt honesty.

"She said so."

"Oh. Right."

"She doesn't know about us." Potter explained.

"Oh."

Draco had no idea what else to say, shocked to the core by the other man's casual mention of what had once happened between them. It had been three years since Draco had so much as met Potter's gaze across a crowded room and it was horribly disorientating to have the unspoken reason for that distance brought out into the open so suddenly. The Gryffindor's next words did little to calm Draco's racing thoughts.

"Did you know it's been nearly three years since we've been this close?"

"Yes." Draco admitted.

"I wondered if you'd been avoiding me..."

Draco stared at him. "As I recall, the last time we spoke you said you never wanted to see or speak to me again."

"I didn't mean it, I was just upset. I was confused and... I know it wasn't your fault what happened that night."

"I didn't realise sex had to be anyone's 'fault'." Draco pointed out, uncertain where Potter was going with his not-quite apology.

The Gryffindor ran a hand through his hair, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "I know, it's just... It shouldn't have happened and I suppose I blamed you for it, as if you'd tricked me into it or something. I was wrong and I'm sorry. It was me, I kissed you, not the other way round. I'm the one to blame."

"I still don't see why anyone needs to be blamed. We had too much to drink and ended up having sex. You do it all the time if what I read in the papers is to believed." Draco couldn't quite resist the subtle dig.

"But I shouldn't have. I should have known better. I had a..." He trailed off as if unable to bring himself to say 'girlfriend', before adding quietly, "I just couldn't resist. I knew it was wrong but I did it anyway."

"What couldn't you resist?" Draco asked without thinking, then nearly bit his tongue off for the slip.

"You." Potter replied with an unexpectedly direct look.

"Can you resist me now?" He shouldn't have asked, he _knew_ he shouldn't have asked.

"I don't go back." Potter said, sounding slightly defensive.

"Maybe that's because you've never found anyone worth going back to."

"I don't... I can't, I'm sorry."

"Why?" Draco demanded, refusing to admit defeat now that he'd inadvertently charged into battle.

"Because I can't be trusted."

"What does trust have to do with it? What makes you think I want more than one more night?"

Draco did want more, of course, much much more, but he would settle for one night. Damn it, he'd settle for one kiss if it was all he could have. He wondered if the Gryffindor could see through his pitiful attempts at pretending anything between them could ever be so casual. Potter just shook his head and Draco had a feeling he was thinking the same thing.

"Do you want another drink?"

"Sure." Draco bit back a frustrated sigh. "Got anything stronger than beer?"

"There's some Firewhiskey in the kitchen."

"Sounds perfect."

This time, Draco followed the Gryffindor into the other room, fighting a losing battle to prevent himself from checking out Potter's arse as he walked. It was almost unfair how good the man looked given that the brief flicker of hope Draco had held that Potter might give in to his advances had been brutally snuffed out by their conversation. It was a relief when the Gryffindor handed him a measure of Firewhiskey and Draco could direct his attention elsewhere. Leaning against one of the kitchen cabinets, he sipped from his glass while Potter seated himself by the table, straddling the back of one of the chairs. Neither of them spoke for some time and Draco was just beginning to relax slightly when the Gryffindor broke the silence.

"No one's ever kissed me the way you did." He blurted, his voice low and husky.

Startled, Draco looked up to find the Gryffindor watching him carefully.

"How did I kiss you?" Draco asked.

"I don't know." Potter shrugged. "Like you didn't really want to, but you couldn't help yourself."

Draco bit back a snort. It certainly hadn't been him wrestling with his conscience that night. He knew exactly how he had kissed Potter and his emotions hadn't been anywhere near that complex. It was true he'd been unable to resist, but he had never even considered trying to fight it. Quite simply, he had kissed Potter with everything he had.

"Are you sure you're not talking about yourself?"

"I don't know." Potter fell silent again, his gaze dropping to focus on the half inch or so of Firewhiskey still in his glass.

"I wanted to." It was Draco's turn to break the silence.

"Wanted to what?" The Gryffindor looked back up at him.

"Kiss you." His eyes shifted down to focus on Potter's mouth.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted you." Draco replied simply, forcing himself to take a drink instead of continuing to stare at the other man.

He heard the sound of footsteps and when he lowered his glass he found that Potter had crossed the room and was now stood less than a foot in front of him.

"Do you still want me?" Potter took the glass out of his hand, reaching behind him to put it on the counter.

"Yes."

"Good."

Before Draco had the chance to think, Potter leaned forward, closing the gap between them and pressing his mouth to Draco's. Instantly, his brain short-circuited, his hands lifting automatically to tangle in the Gryffindor's hair. His lips parted and their tongues touched, sliding together as they moved even closer. Merlin, but Potter knew how to kiss. As much as Draco hated the idea of exactly how the other man had come by that knowledge, he couldn't deny the truth of it any more than he could deny the way it made him feel... As if his entire world had been tipped upside down.

"I thought you didn't come back for seconds." Draco said when Potter finally pulled away.

"Maybe you were right and I've just never found anyone else worth a second look."

"And I'm worth it, am I?"

"Based on that kiss...? Definitely. Last time was one of the best nights of my life, how about we try and beat that record?"

Who'd have known that Potter could be such a sweet talker? Draco certainly hadn't and the reminder that the other man had moved on a lot since the last time they had been together was a wholly unwelcome thought. Draco had secretly wanted Potter for years, ever since that night on the Quidditch pitch, hell who was he kidding, he'd wanted Potter even longer than that, but he'd never really let himself admit it. Now he was on the verge of having him all over again, of winning Granger's stupid bet and getting his hands on the other photos that would likely taunt him for the rest of his life.

"I bet you say that to all the boys." Draco retorted sarcastically, pushing Potter back slightly.

"Hardly. I never come back for more, do I?" The Gryffindor's expression was a mix of confusion and hurt. "I thought you wanted this?"

"I do, I just..." 'want more than to be another notch on your bed-post' Draco nearly finished.

"What? What do you want, Malfoy?"

"I don't want to hear your ridiculous chat up lines about it being 'the best night of your life'. If you want to fuck, great, let's do it, but don't try and turn it into something it's not."

This time Potter stepped back, his expression closed. "It wasn't a line. I meant every word."

"Really?" Draco's voice dripped sarcasm.

"Yes really!" Potter practically shouted. "You have no idea how much that night meant to me."

"Well you certainly had a funny way of showing it."

"I know and I'm sorry. I told you, I was confused. I'd just cheated on my girlfriend with a boy. I had no idea what to think. It doesn't change the fact that you rocked my world that night."

Draco desperately wanted to believe that Potter was telling the truth, but it was hard to trust the other man.

"I'm sorry, Potter. I'm not saying I don't want you because believe me I do, but I'm not going to help you add to your own self-loathing. If you ever decide you want more than just another one night stand, let me know."

He was faintly aware that he was contradicting himself, but it was hard to tow the 'this means nothing to me' line when he could already taste the pain of losing Potter all over again come morning. No matter what impression he'd been trying to give, it was damn hard to keep up the pretense when the Gryffindor was this close, the promise of his bed so near.

"I can't..."

"Can't what?"

"Be with you. I can't be trusted."

"You said that before, but I don't buy it. I think you're just scared."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" Draco held up a hand to silence him when Potter opened his mouth to retort. "You drunkenly cheated on your girlfriend three years ago because you realised it might be your one and only shot at something with someone who made you blood sing. The next morning, overwhelmed by guilt you pushed him away, pushed her away, pushed _everyone_ away and you've been running ever since. Sound familiar?"

"It's not that simple..."

"Yes it is." Draco interrupted. "What do you want, Potter?"

The Gryffindor swallowed nervously, pausing for a long moment before finally speaking. "I want you to fuck me."

"Did you listen to anything I just said?" Draco demanded.

"You asked me what I wanted and that's what I want. No one else..." He hesitated before plunging onward. "I've never let anyone else do that to me, only you."

Draco inhaled sharply, wondering if it could actually be true. All those men... yet all this time only he had touched Potter that way?

"No one else?"

"No one." The Gryffindor affirmed. "I think... I think maybe I've been waiting for you."

Draco didn't know what to say, too overwhelmed to think clearly.

"Please will you come home with me?" Potter asked softly and Draco knew he was lost.

Still, the thought of going back to the Gryffindor's flat, sharing the bed he'd shared with so many others made Draco's blood run cold.

"I've never taken anyone else there." Potter pressed, clearly reading Draco's hesitation. "Will you come?"

"Ok." Was all he managed before the Gryffindor's lips closed over his again.

The next thing Draco knew, the lurch of Apparation tore his mouth from Potter's. Opening his eyes, he found himself standing in another kitchen oddly similar to the one he'd just left. In fact...

"Tell me you and Granger don't live in two halves of the same semi." Draco groaned.

Potter grinned sheepishly. "We wanted to be close and when this place went up for sale..."

"Gryffindors." Draco muttered.

"Yes, yes, I know. We're all idiots. Now did we come here to discuss house rivalry or did we come here to..."

Potter didn't even manage to finish his sentence before Draco hauled him closer, fusing their lips together. They kissed as though it were the first time or the last, throwing everything they had into the embrace.

"Bedroom?" Draco panted when they parted for air and Potter nodded, grabbing hold of his hand and leading him down the hall.

Despite the urgency of their desire, it took them some time to make it to the bedroom. Before they even reached the stairs, Draco had Potter pressed against the wall, practically devouring him. The Gryffindor was by no means passive, his fingers tearing at the buttons of Draco's shirt until he was able to slide his palms over the pale skin of his bared chest. By the time they made it to the landing, both men were topless and Potter's hand was wedged between them, stroking Draco through his trousers.

"Bedroom." He reminded the Gryffindor breathlessly.

"Mmmm, yes, right..." Potter's lips trailed over Draco's jaw before he abruptly pulled away completely.

Draco couldn't quite suppress his moan of frustration, a reaction that was not missed by the Gryffindor who smirked with satisfaction, before taking hold of his hand again.

"This way."

A moment later, they were tumbling onto Potter's bed, the last of their clothing strewn across the floor.

Draco groaned as the Gryffindor's hand wrapped itself firmly around his length. Last time they had done this Potter had been tentative, almost shy despite his intoxication. Tonight, he was anything but. His hand stroked Draco with practiced skill, his lips working their way boldly down Draco's throat and across the top of his chest. The Gryffindor paused to suck first on one nipple, then the other before continuing on his journey, kissing his way down to Draco's hip.

For just a moment, he remained where he was, teasing Draco with his proximity, without making any attempt to move any closer. Then, without warning, Potter shifted just slightly, but it was enough. His lips brushed over the tip of Draco's length and he moaned quietly, unable to stop himself from bucking his hips. Taking the hint, the Gryffindor curled one hand around the base of him, before wrapping his lips around the head. He started a rhythm immediately, swallowing Draco almost to the root before pulling back so far that he nearly released him entirely. It felt incredible, the sensations created by that talented mouth combined with the visual stimulation of watching that breathtakingly familiar dark head working him over nearly enough to destroy what remained of his self-control. As much as he was enjoying every swipe of the Gryffindor's tongue, Draco knew that if Potter continued for much longer, the evening's events would be over far more quickly than either of them wanted. Reaching down, he reluctantly gave the Gryffindor's hair a harsh tug and taking the hint, Potter pulled back, licking his lips as he looked up to meet Draco's gaze.

"Problem?" He smirked, moving up the bed until they were lying side by side.

"Not at all." Draco moved suddenly, rolling over and covering the Gryffindor's body with his own. "But I have bigger plans for tonight than a blow-job, no matter how spectacularly talented that mouth of yours is."

"Merlin, Draco..." Potter gasped, responding as much to his words as to the delicious friction created when their hips came together, grinding slowly.

"Call me Malfoy." He ordered before he could stop himself.

"Really?" The Gryffindor's surprise was enough to halt his movement and he pulled back to meet Draco's gaze.

Regretting his outburst already, he wondered if there was any way to avoid telling Potter the reason behind it.

"You don't think we're close enough yet to be on first name terms?"

The Gryffindor's voice was light, but his eyes told another story. So Draco had managed to hurt Potter, brilliant.

"No, it's not that, it's just... You've never called me Draco, it feels wrong somehow, like this isn't... real."

For what felt like an age, the other man simply stared at him. As the seconds ticked by, he grew more and more uncomfortable beneath the Gryffindor's probing gaze. Just as he became certain he could take no more of Potter's silence, the other man spoke, though Draco soon wished he hadn't.

"I hurt you." Potter blurted, reaching up to cup Draco's face in an oddly tender gesture. "I pushed you away and you thought it was because I didn't want you."

He shrugged, wanting to deny it, but feeling oddly unable to lie.

"I'm so sorry, Draco... Malfoy..."

"I'm being ridiculous, you can call me Draco if you want."

"I'd like that." Potter said softly. "And do you think you might call me Harry one of these days?"

"Maybe... If you're very good..." He teased, trying to lighten the mood. "Or very bad."

The Gryffindor laughed, a deep throaty chuckle that sent shivers skating down Draco's spine. "Which would you prefer?"

"From you?" He slid one hand between their bodies, wrapping it around Potter's length and beginning a lazy rhythm. "How about an intoxicating mixture of both?"

"You don't ask for much, do you?" Potter's back arched as he thrust himself more firmly into Draco's fist.

"Ah but you're the great Harry Potter, you can do _anything_ right?" Draco teased.

"For you I'll certainly try." The Gryffindor flirted back even as he began to shift restlessly beneath Draco, pushing upward insistently.

They fell silent after that, as Potter leaned forward, pressing his lips against Draco's. They kissed hungrily as Draco's hand began to move faster over the Gryffindor's erection, driving him slowly crazy. When the other man was little more than a writhing mess on the bed beneath him, Draco withdrew, earning a frustrated moan from Potter. Not giving the Gryffindor an opportunity to think, he quickly summoned the lubricant he knew must be hidden somewhere in Potter's room before slicking his fingers. Slowly, he began trailing his digits over the tanned skin of Potter's abdomen before sliding lower. The Gryffindor had tensed almost imperceptibly at the change in activity, but as Draco's fingers moved closer to their goal, his tension became more palpable, radiating off of him in waves.

"Are you sure about this?" He hesitated.

"Yes, I'm just a little nervous." Potter laughed awkwardly. "It's been a very long time."

"You need to relax." Draco told him.

"I know." The Gryffindor sighed, blowing his fringe out of his eyes. "It's just a lot harder than I thought it would be."

"Want me to help?" He offered, prompting a questioning look from the other man. "I can do what I did last time, it worked then."

Realisation dawned quickly. "Merlin, yes..."

Without hesitation Draco moved, beginning to kiss his way down Potter's chest. When he reached his goal he wasted no time teasing, wrapping his mouth around the Gryffindor's length and swallowing as much of him as he could. He continued to suck Potter off until he was panting harshly, his fingers tangled tightly in Draco's hair, before drawing back to run his lips over the other man's hip. This time when he brought his fingers into play, sliding them between Potter's legs, the increase in tension, though still evident, was much less.

"I won't hurt you." Draco whispered, continuing to press soft kisses against the Gryffindor's skin.

"I know." Potter's voice was rough as he tugged gently at Draco's hair, drawing him upwards. "Come here."

Following the Gryffindor's hands, Draco moved back up to lie beside him, allowing his lips to be captured in a bruising kiss. He felt Potter grinding against him and a moment later the Gryffindor pulled back just enough to speak, his mouth brushing Draco's with every syllable.

"I'm ready." He moaned when Draco's fingers found his entrance, stroking lightly without attempting to penetrate. "More than ready. Please, Draco..."

Slowly, he pressed one finger into the Gryffindor, moaning himself when he felt the tightness squeezing at his digit. He stroked in and out for a few minutes until Potter was nearly pleading for more, only then adding a second finger and finally a third.

"Ready?" He asked finally.

"I've been ready for ages and you know it." Potter groused, his whole body arching with every shallow thrust of Draco's hand. "So stop teasing and just fuck me already."

Removing his fingers with a laugh, Draco settled himself between the Gryffindor's legs, positioning himself at Potter's entrance before carefully pressing inside.

"Ok?" He asked breathlessly, his heart beginning to pound as he realised how momentous this event really was.

"Yes." The Gryffindor reached up, wrapping his arms around Draco's neck. " _Merlin_ , yes, I'd forgotten..."

"Forgotten what?" He asked when Potter's voice choked off on a moan as Draco began to thrust shallowly.

"How good this felt. How intimate..."

"It's just sex. You do it all the time." Harsh as it was, Draco couldn't quite bring himself to regret the comment, after all, it was true.

"Not like this." Was all the Gryffindor said in response, but it was enough.

Shifting his hips, Draco pulled back before pressing forward, deeper than before, starting a slow rhythm that soon increased as the tension between them began to grow. As much as Draco had needled the other man about his sex life, he was hardly a saint himself. He had slept with more than his fair share of men and Potter was right, this was different. Their eyes stayed locked together as Draco thrust rapidly into the Gryffindor's body and their movements seemed to be perfectly in tune, as if they had been doing this together for years. He had never had such a strong connection with anyone else and he never wanted it to end. No matter what Potter had said in Granger's kitchen, he still wasn't entirely convinced that this was anything more than a one off for the Gryffindor and if this was all he'd ever have, he wanted it to last as long as possible. Yet almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind, Potter cried out, his whole body trembling with the force of his orgasm. There was no stopping his own climax after that, the visual stimulation of watching the Gryffindor coming undone beneath him combined with the sensations coursing through his body were more than enough to push him over the edge.

Collapsing on top of Potter, Draco pressed his lips against the other man's throat wondering how long he had before the Gryffindor threw him out. When Potter shifted uncomfortably beneath him, Draco rolled off of him, but before he could go to far, the other man's arm snaked around his waist, pulling him close.

"That was..."

"Yeah." Draco agreed, his heart lurching as he recalled the last time they had been here.

Should he stay if Potter wanted him to? Would tomorrow morning play out the same way it had last time if he did? The Gryffindor wasn't drunk, he'd known what he was doing when he'd brought Draco back, but would that make a difference in the cold light of day? Still undecided, Draco shifted slightly until Potter tightened his grip.

"Going somewhere?"

"No."

He bit back a sigh. As if there'd ever really been a question over whether he'd stay or not, given even half the chance.

"Good." Potter leaned over, pressing his lips against Draco's.

The kiss was slow and lazy, but it was still enough to set Draco's heart pounding. When the Gryffindor finally pulled away, he had to bite back a whimper of frustration, but then Potter hugged him tightly and Draco didn't mind so much after all. They lay in silence after that and slowly the Gryffindor's hold on him slackened as he drifted off to sleep. Taking advantage of the rare moment of liberty, Draco let his gaze travel freely over Potter's features. What was it about this man that affected him so much more than anyone else he'd ever met? Reaching out, he carefully pushed the Gryffindor's fringe out of his face, revealing the infamous scar. Unable to help himself, he leaned forward pressing a gentle kiss against the lightning bolt. He froze when Potter stirred, but all he did was hug Draco closer before settling again. He allowed himself one final longing look, attempting to memorise every feature in case his pessimism turned out to be correct, then forced himself to close his eyes and wait for sleep to claim him.

^v^

When Draco woke up the following morning it was a moment before he remembered where he was. Even the enticing feel of an erection nestled against his backside didn't immediately recall the events of the previous night. He moaned automatically as a calloused hand slid down his chest to wrap around his own morning wood, but even then, it wasn't until he heard the rasp of a familiar voice still husky with sleep that he finally remembered.

"You're awake..."

Suddenly it all came crashing back to him. After all these years he had finally got Potter into bed again and not just any bed, the Gryffindor's own bed, that sacred place of hero worship he was apparently the first to have visited. In the light of day, however, it was harder to convince himself that it was the truth. Could it really be possible that Potter had never brought even one of his many conquests back here? The other startling discovery, that the other man had only ever bottomed for Draco, seemed somewhat more likely given the Gryffindor's hesitancy, but still he found it hard to get his head around the idea.

While Draco's mind continued to whirl, Potter's hand had continued to stroke and before long Draco no longer had the brain power to over-analyse. Closing his eyes, he tipped his head back, moaning quietly when he felt the Gryffindor's lips begin to play over the sensitive skin of his throat. In response, the hand on his erection sped up as Potter pressed his own hard length more firmly between Draco's cheeks. The fingers tracing over him soon began to dip lower with each stroke, sliding between his legs and it was clear what Potter wanted, yet the Gryffindor stayed unexpectedly silent.

"I didn't think you'd be one for shyness." Draco quipped when it became evident Potter had no intention of speaking up.

"What are you talking about?"

He glanced back over his shoulder. "If you want to fuck me, all you have to do is ask."

The other man groaned, his hips thrusting more firmly against Draco's arse. "Will you let me?"

He considered teasing the Gryffindor further and making him say the words, but Draco wanted it too much to keep stalling.

"Yes." He rocked his hips to increase the friction against Potter's length.

The next moment the Gryffindor pulled back, sliding his hastily slicked fingers between Draco's cheeks. Almost delicately, Potter probed at his entrance, circling the sensitive skin without making any real attempt to penetrate.

"Unlike some people, it hasn't been three years since I last did this, you don't need to be so gentle." His words came out sounding harsher than he'd meant them to, but Potter's teasing touches were driving him slowly insane.

"Sorry." Potter muttered and Draco immediately felt guilty.

"I just meant you don't need to be so careful, I won't break and I need..." He trailed off, uncertain what he might reveal if he allowed himself to continue.

"What do you need, Draco?" Potter murmured into his ear.

"You. Fucking me into the mattress."

"Merlin." The Gryffindor groaned, pressing two fingers into him suddenly.

It was Draco's turn to moan, his body arching as Potter fucked him with his hand, but already it wasn't enough.

"More." He demanded breathlessly.

Thankfully not needing any further encouragement, Potter obeyed immediately, removing his fingers and thrusting into Draco with his hard length in almost the same movement.

"Fuck." Draco gasped.

"Ok?"

"Yes, don't stop, _Merlin_ , don't you dare stop!"

"I don't think I could if I wanted to." Potter admitted before adding in a voice that was little more than a growl. "And I _definitely_ don't want to."

Returning his hand to Draco's erection, he began to stroke roughly as he started a punishing rhythm, fucking him into the mattress just as he'd asked. Neither of them lasted long and within minutes they lay in a sweaty heap on the bed as their laboured breathing slowly returned to normal.

"I don't remember the last time I had morning sex." The Gryffindor spoke after a while, shattering the silence that had fallen between them.

"Oh?" He wasn't sure what to make of that, though the post-orgasmic bliss began to fade rapidly.

"I'm normally long gone by now." The Gryffindor admitted with an oddly bashful smile.

"I suppose it's not quite as easy to vanish off into the night when you're in your own house."

There was an edge to his words that he wondered if Potter would pick up on. Despite the amazing sex and the undeniable chemistry between them, Draco was still half expecting the Gryffindor to kick him out at any moment.

"I wouldn't have left anyway." The other man said, though Draco must not have looked convinced because he continued talking. "If I bring you breakfast in bed, will you believe me?"

"I might." He conceded, not quite ready to trust the other man completely, but willing to give him the benefit of the doubt for now.

"I'll be right back." Potter told him, dropping a kiss on Draco's forehead before sliding out from beneath the sheets.

Draco couldn't help but watch as the Gryffindor walked naked across the room in search of his robe. If it were possible, he looked even better than he had the previous night and he clearly had no problem with nudity. Draco was nearly ready to skip breakfast and just have Potter instead by the time the Gryffindor finally got around to covering up all the beautiful bare skin. It wasn't until he paused in the doorway, turning back to wink at Draco before vanishing into the hall, that he realised the other man had known he was watching all along and had evidently been putting on something of a show. Whatever anyone might say to the contrary, Potter was clearly a complete exhibitionist. Draco was willing to bet that the Gryffindor had loved every minute of that ridiculous Witch Weekly shoot.

The thought of the magazine photographs reminded Draco that his presence in Potter's bed had other consequences beyond the fact that he'd finally fulfilled the fantasy that had haunted him for the past three years. He'd also won Granger's bet and any day now, the pictures would be his. The question was, did he still want them? Well, perhaps that was the wrong question. Of course he wanted the blasted photographs. A better question was; should he accept them? In the extremely unlikely event that Potter planned to keep him around, he'd feel guilty holding onto them, knowing Potter would be furious if he ever found out and besides, he would have the real thing anyway. If this was a one time deal, however, having the pictures while knowing he would never have another chance with their subject would likely torment him even worse than any of his secret fantasies had done before.

He was no closer to reaching a decision when Potter returned carrying a heavily laden tray. Smiling at Draco, the other man placed their breakfast on the bedside table before shucking his robe and sliding back beneath the covers beside him. This time he made less of a performance about it, but Draco still caught a brief flash before the sheets fell into place over Potter's lap.

"Tea?"

"Please."

The Gryffindor passed him a steaming mug which he took gratefully, inhaling the aroma of the brew before taking a sip. The drink seemed to ground him a little and he was able to share the breakfast Potter had made with only a minimal amount of mental analysis. When the last of the food had been eaten, Potter returned their crockery to the tray and banished the spilled crumbs before turning back to Draco.

"So..."

"So?" Not that he needed to ask, given the hungry expression on the Gryffindor's face.

"What are you up to for the rest of the day?"

Draco shrugged. "Meeting some friends this evening. You?"

"I'd planned on having a lazy morning in bed, maybe a quiet lunch at home... Fancy it?"

"Lunch or bed?" Draco asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Both." Potter shifted closer, running one hand over Draco's thigh beneath the sheets.

"Alright." Draco tried to keep his voice casual, but it was difficult when the Gryffindor's hand moved higher still.

As Potter pressed him back against the pillows, seeking Draco's mouth with his own, he tried to wrap his mind around the concept that maybe the Gryffindor really had meant it when he'd said that this was different. Surely no one else had managed to keep Potter's attention for so long, at least not since the Weaselette back at school. The thought reminded him of what Granger had told him about Potter's relationship with his ex-girlfriend and he wondered if she really could be right about everything else. Could Potter really have been waiting for him all this time? It was a heady thought and Draco couldn't quite hide the moan of pleasure that escaped him as Potter pulled back, meeting his gaze.

"You have no idea what you do to me." He whispered before he could help himself.

"It's nothing compared to what you do to me." Potter told him. "Merlin, Draco, you're incredible. The way you make me feel..."

"How do I make you feel?" Draco asked, pressing his lips against the Gryffindor's cheek and tracing the line of his jaw.

"Like I've found what I've been searching for all these years. Like I've finally found a place I can call home."

"Really?" Draco was startled enough by Potter's admission that he physically drew back to look at him.

"I should never have pushed you away the way I did. I'm sorry." The Gryffindor raised a hand, cupping Draco's face in his palm. "Let me make it up to you? Let me be the man I should have been three years ago? Give me a chance to show you how good we could be together?"

It was as if Potter had heard all of Draco's most secret desires and promised him every single one of them.

What else could he say in response but, "Yes. _Merlin_ , yes."


	3. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with JK's toys.

Warnings: Contains SLASH. Rated M for a reason.

 **Breaking All The Rules**

 **Epilogue**

"Anyone we know?" Granger greeted him when she walked into their office on Monday morning.

"Funny, Granger." Draco rolled his eyes, though he wasn't quite able to resist shooting another glance at the front page of the Prophet, still sitting in the middle of his desk.

It was a stunning picture, even if he did say so himself. He hadn't yet worked out who'd taken it, but based on the setting he half suspected Granger herself. He'd been pretty certain at the time that no one had seen them together, but clearly he'd been mistaken. There, on the front page of the prophet, beneath the highly original title of 'Harry Potter and the Death Eater', was a large photograph of he and Potter, wrapped up in a steamy embrace. The golden boy had Draco shoved up against one of Granger's kitchen cabinets as he practically devoured him with his lips. Draco's hands were tangled in the Gryffindor's hair, while Potter's fingers had somehow worked their way under Draco's shirt. They were pressed so tightly together that it was hard to see where one of them ended and the other began. He had already spent nearly ten minutes staring at the picture before Granger's arrival, only just managing to stop himself from reaching out to caress Potter's face.

"And you spent yesterday together as well?" She sounded so smug Draco would have been tempted to lie just to wind her up, if he hadn't been sure that Potter had already told her all about it.

"Yes, we did. As you well know." He arched an eyebrow at her.

She grinned back at him, unruffled. "I knew it would work out."

"Don't count your chickens yet, it's only been one date."

"Yes, but it was still a second date and for Harry that's a first."

"I don't think you can quite count the first time as a date."

"A technicality." She dismissed his argument. "And you know I'm right. You're the only man Harry has ever gone back to. That's a big deal and you know it as well as I do."

"Perhaps, but it's not going to be plain sailing."

"No, but it's a step in the right direction. You'll be good for him. You'll be good for each _other_."

"I hope you're right." Was all Draco could say in response as he finally slid the Prophet into his drawer for safe keeping.

^v^

The morning passed as usual after that, the pair of them working in companiable silence. If Draco was still a little distracted, his mind continuing to replay the events of the past couple of days, he didn't show it, burying himself in paperwork instead. Just before lunch, Draco headed to the file store, nearly groaning with irritation when he ran straight into Simon in the doorway.

"Morning, Draco."

He nodded curtly, turning his attention to the files he was looking for.

"I see you finally gave in to Harry Potter's charms." There was an odd edge to his voice and Draco wondered if he was jealous, though whether of Potter or himself was anyone's guess.

"So it would seem." Draco began stacking files on the table, cursing the need to do things by hand so as not to damage the delicate stasis spells protecting the older documents.

Simon fell unexpectedly silent after that and when Draco next looked round he found the boy giving him a look somewhere between condescending and pitying. It was the same look Draco had given to countless others, Simon included, when they were still fresh out of Potter's bed and hoping for a second invitation. It was different this time, of course, after all, Draco had already received and enjoyed his second invite, but the expression caused an unexpected jolt somewhere in the region of his heart. What if he was wrong? What if he had just been taken in by Potter's lines like all the other fools that had fallen into the Gryffindor's trap? They had made no further plans to see each other and just because Draco had won himself a second night in Potter's arms did not really mean that the other man had changed.

Not wanting to allow himself to continue along that particular line of thought, he began restacking the files in his arms, attempting to balance the towering pile to avoid the need for another trip.

"Do you want a hand?"

Draco almost said no, just to spite the boy who dared to think that he was just another notch on Potter's bed-post, but he pushed the childish thought away.

"Thank you." He passed half the files to Simon, waiting for the boy to proceed him out of the store, before following on.

At the door to the office, Simon stopped suddenly, blocking Draco's path and nearly causing him to drop a few of his folders.

"Simon, will you _please_ move. These are heavy."

"Right, sorry." He sounded ruffled as he stepped into the room, moving to place the folders on Draco's desk.

Following behind him, it was Draco's turn to stop short, his eyes going wide. There, sitting on the edge of his desk, swinging his legs and humming to himself, was the Boy Who Lived, or more appropriately, the man who turned Draco's legs to jelly.

"What are you doing here, Potter?"

He heard Simon gasp, clearly surprised by the blunt way he'd spoken to the Gryffindor, but Draco ignored him, setting his load down on the table before stepping back to regard Potter carefully.

"I thought I'd come and take you to lunch, if you're free?"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Simon's jaw drop open in shock and it was this that seemed to shake Draco out of his daze.

"Fine, but you're paying." He turned away to retrieve his leather jacket from the hook by the door.

"Of course." The Gryffindor sounded amused and a moment later he felt a hand helping him into his coat.

"Leather suits you." Potter smoothed down the front of the jacket before giving him a slow once over, setting Draco's heart racing.

"It's his one muggle indulgence." Granger interjected, providing a timely reminder that they had an audience.

"Well I approve." Potter smirked.

"Good for you." Draco rolled his eyes. "Are we going for lunch or not? I only have an hour."

The Gryffindor held up his hands in mock surrender. "We're going, we're going."

Draco didn't bother to reply, turning instead towards the door. He had only taken one step when Granger called him back.

"Draco? I almost forgot, I have something for you."

"Can't it wait until after lunch?" He griped.

"Oh this isn't work related." She said lightly. "Here."

Before he could say a word, a large manila envelope was thrust into his hands. He knew what it was immediately, recognising the stationary even before he spotted the label on the front. He bit back a groan. He was going to kill Granger this time, he really was.

"What's that?" Potter asked curiously.

"Nothing important."

"Aww go on, let me see?"

"No, Potter, mind your own business."

The Gryffindor pouted and Draco nearly screamed with frustration.

"Please?"

"I said no." Draco gritted.

"Whhhyyy?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, praying for strength and it was the chance Potter had been looking for. Draco's eyes flew open and he lunged forward, but it was too late. Death was too generous for Granger, it would be life-imprisonment, instead, without a single book for the meddling witch to read.

"Is this what I think it is?" Potter asked after a moment, still staring at the label on the front of the envelope.

"We're going to lunch. _Now_." Draco snarled, grabbing hold of Potter's wrist and dragging him forcibly out of the room, Granger's laughter echoing behind him.

"So, care to explain?" The Gryffindor asked, waving the envelope at him while they waited for the lift.

"Not really." Draco snatched it back, tucking it away inside his jacket.

"Explain anyway."

Draco sighed, mentally cursing Granger yet again. "Fine, but not here."

The Gryffindor nodded, accepting Draco's delay tactics for now at least. The lift arrived a moment later and they joined the crush of people escaping the office for their lunch break. Potter garnered more than a few surprised looks, especially when people realised who he was accompanying, but no one seemed to have the guts to say anything and a few minutes later, the two of them were out in the open, walking towards a cluster of wizard run restaurants a few streets over. They found a table towards the back of one of the nicer establishments and settled in opposite each other. Potter waited only until they had ordered before casting a muffliato charm around them and returning to their earlier conversation.

"So?" He prompted.

Draco picked up his fork and began to fidget, not quite able to meet the Gryffindor's eyes.

"You've probably guessed what they are, I don't need to tell you."

"Based on the fact they were labelled 'Harry Potter - Witch Weekly centre-fold shoot', I don't think I needed to do much guessing. The question is, why do you have them?"

"Because Granger gave them to me."

"And why exactly did Hermione give them to you?"

Draco winced, wondering desperately if there was a way out of this that didn't involve the truth. It seemed unlikely though, particularly as there was every chance that the Gryffindor would go straight to Granger for coroboration. Even if Draco managed to reach her first, he thought it unlikely that she would agree to lie for him.

"We had a bet." Draco spoke haltingly. "And I won."

"The prize was naked photographs of me?" Potter asked sounding slightly incredulous. "Why would you want those?"

It was Draco's turn to express incredulity. "After the weekend we've just had do you _really_ need me to answer that? And before you jump to conclusions, no I wasn't planning on selling them."

"I... ok, I suppose I can see why you might be, er, interested." He cleared his throat, seeming unexpectedly embarrassed before he pressed on. "So what did Hermione get if she won?"

He grimaced. "My agreement that I'd go on a date with Simon."

"Who's Simon?" There was a slight frown on Potter's face that Draco tried desperately not to read into.

"A colleague of sorts. You saw him, he was with me when I got back to the office." He paused for half a beat before adding, "You've shagged him."

Potter's frown deepened. "Why would she want you to go out with him?"

If Draco hadn't known better he might have thought that the Gryffindor was jealous. He certainly didn't seem to like the thought of Draco dating his young work mate.

"She thought I was being too fussy." He had no intention of explaining his 'fussiness' any further.

Apparently just as keen to move on from the subject as Draco, Potter asked another question. Unfortunately, it was the one question Draco really didn't want to answer.

"What was the bet?"

Draco took a deep breath before fixing the Gryffindor with a steady gaze. "I'll tell you, but I need you to listen to everything I have to say before you go leaping to conclusions."

"It was about me, wasn't it?" Potter said with unexpected perceptivness.

He wanted to say no, to reprimand the Gryffindor for jumping to conclusion before Draco had even begun, but Potter was right.

"Yes." Draco said simply.

"I thought it might be. You coming to Hermione's party seemed so... unexpected. I thought there must have been something more behind it."

"Granger was worried about you. She knew you were running from something, but she didn't know what. Then when she heard about what happened after graduation, she put it all together."

Potter looked as though he were about to interrupt, but somewhat surprisingly, seemed to reign himself in, biting his lip and letting Draco finish.

"She knew I still wanted you and she thought that you wanted me too, you just didn't know how to deal with it. The bet wasn't really a bet, it was just her way of persuading me to take the risk and take a chance on you. I'm sorry."

Draco fell silent, waiting for the explosion that he was certain must be imminent, but nothing happened. For a full minute they sat there in silence before Potter finally spoke.

"Hermione knows about what happened between us?" He asked quietly, his expression blank.

Draco nodded.

"How long?"

"Only a week. Look, I'm sorry, I..."

The Gryffindor held up his hand, halting Draco mid sentence.

"You don't need to apologise. I wish you hadn't told her, but what's done is done. I don't think she'll tell anyone, especially not Ginny or Ron and besides, it was a long time ago."

"So why are you still beating yourself up about it?" Draco asked before he could help himself.

Harry's expression twisted into something halfway between a smile and a grimace. "I've never been too good at dealing with guilt."

"I'd noticed." Draco responded dryly, wondering if it was possible that Potter really wasn't angry with him.

As if hearing Draco's thoughts, the Gryffindor added, "And don't think you're off the hook quite yet. I'm still not sure how I feel about you and Hermione plotting behind my back... Though I suppose it worked out well enough in the end."

"She only had your best interests at heart." Draco pointed out, not beyond using the other man's Gryffindorish nature to achieve his own ends.

"And you did too, I suppose?"

"No, I had somewhat different interests, mostly relating to certain other body parts." Draco shot back, finally allowing himself to relax.

"I'd noticed." Potter echoed his earlier comment with a smirk, before motioning to the pocket of Draco's jacket, slung over the back of his seat. "So which ones are they?"

"How should I know?"

"Why not have a look, then?" Potter's smile became positively feral.

"What? Here?" Draco glanced round automatically at the busy restaurant.

"Live a little dangerously."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I always knew you were a total exhibitionist."

Potter laughed. "Not really, but if I know Hermione, she'll have put a few spells on those for safety, in case they get into the wrong hands."

Draco gritted his teeth, but before he could say anything, the Gryffindor spoke again.

"I'm not saying she doesn't trust you, just that she wouldn't want to risk anyone getting hold of them if they were to find out you had them."

Feeling only slightly molified, Draco nonetheless retrieved the envelope from his jacket. Taking a deep steadying breath, he slid the stack of photographs out of their protective sleeve.

He had thought he'd prepared himself, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight in front of him now. There were a dozen pictures in all and each one was hotter than the last.

The first image showed Potter on the bed again, though this time there were no sheets covering his bits. Instead, hands belonging to unseen people were piled in his lap while yet more stroked over the rest of him. One, obviously female, stroked the length of his right thigh while another distinctly male hand ran over his chest, brushing over a nipple as he went. It was smoulderingly hot, certainly, but it merely served to increase Draco's jealousy and he quickly moved on to another.

The next few all had a Quidditch theme and Draco much preferred those. In one, Potter was stood in the middle of the pitch, holding a quaffle in front of his hips, though he looked as though he might toss it away at any moment. In another he was seated in the stands, one leg propped up on the bench to protect his modesty while he stared out at the empty pitch, seemingly waiting for a match to start. Another image had Potter kneeling over a crate of balls, his fingers working on the fastenings which held the snitch in place. It was the only picture other than the original shower photograph that showed off the firm globes of Potter's arse and Draco found that he had to swallow hard to keep from visibly drooling over the image.

There were two more shower pictures in the complete collection. The first showed the Gryffindor front on, his hands running over his own body as he rubbed a bar of soap over his skin leaving trails of suds, the majority of which had been artfully arranged between his legs to create a pair of foam underpants. The other photograph showed him washing away the soap, his hands covering his bits as he let the water sluice over his skin.

There was yet another picture in which he sat on a picnic blanket beside a smart wicker hamper. A plate of fresh strawberries sat by his knee along with two champagne glasses. The bottle had been positioned between his legs while he worked at the cork with his fist. If anything the picture was even more provocative than the one with the broom that Granger had already given him. A second photo, clearly taken soon after, had Potter leaning back against the basket, feeding himself strawberries from the plate now balanced in his lap. He was apparently a very messy eater, however, and with every bite juice seemed to trickle over his chin, down his chest and along his arm. The third picture in the series was back with the champagne. The dish of fruit still in his lap, the Gryffindor had apparently decided that the best way of cleaning up the spilled juice was to wash it off with the sparkling wine. Ignoring the glasses, he had lifted the bottle to his lips, pouring a small amount into his mouth and the remainder down his deliciously naked body. By the time Draco tore his gaze away he had the strongest urge to take Potter on a picnic with a hamper full of champagne and strawberries.

One pair of pictures appeared to have been taken at Hogwarts, although he assumed they had not actually been shot on location. The stone walls and familiar scarred desks still sent an odd rush of nostalgia through him, though the setting was not enough to distract him for long. In the first photograph, Potter was actually somewhat dressed, though the presence of clothing seemed designed merely to highlight the vital parts of his outfit that were missing. He wore only a robe, barely clinging on to his shoulders, paired with a Gryffindor tie draped loosely around his bare neck. Reclining in what was obviously meant to be the teachers chair, he had his feet up on the desk and an insolent expression on his face. A notebook sat in his lap and he twirled a quill in one hand, pausing every now and then to stroke the feather over his lips. Everything from his debauched state of dress, to the way he was sitting gave the impression of a disobedient school boy and Draco found himself fighting against a desire to acquire an old school desk, just so that he could bend Potter over it. The second picture seemed tamer, though the Gryffindor had discarded the rest of his clothing prior to the shot. Carefully positioned behind a small cauldron, the Gryffindor was stirring the concoction with his finger, before lifting the digit out to taste the potion. It was a ridiculous pose, not least because Potter had always been shockingly bad at potions. Of course, he was also stirring the mixture with his finger which was almost never a good idea, though admittedly the 'potion' looked a lot more like melted chocolate than anything else.

Draco couldn't quite decide on a favourite but the twelfth photograph, the one of Potter straddling a muggle motorbike was definitely one of his top three. Granger may have thought that his jacket was his only muggle indulgence but he had to admit, though only in private, that he had a certain fascination with motorbikes. There was something inescapably hot about a fit man wearing tight leather with a powerful metal beast between his thighs. It had never really occurred to him that the same pose with _out_ the leathers would be even hotter. In this shot, Potter wore nothing but a smirk, his hands wrapped around the handle bars. The angle of the camera and the position of his knee were the only things protecting his modesty. There was no sound of course, but from the way the Gryffindor kept shifting, he could almost hear the engine revving like a roaring lion.

"Draco?"

He forced his eyes away from the photographs to glance up at their subject, only to find Potter grinning at him. Belatedly he wondered how many times the Gryffindor had called his name before finally gaining his attention.

"Yes?"

He tried for nonchalance, but he wasn't quite sure he'd made it, especially when he found his gaze returning to the pictures in front of him without his consent.

"Do you like them?"

'Of course I bloody like them', Draco nearly snapped, before carefully bringing himself back under control.

"Very artistic." He said instead.

"Bollocks." Potter snorted, digging through the pile until he found the shot of him decorking the champagne bottle wedged between his thighs. "That is not _art_. It's porn."

Draco found himself biting back a laugh as he admired the photograph again. Admittedly he generally didn't spend his evenings wanking over the multitude of priceless paintings in his family's collection, no matter how much skin was on show.

"And you didn't answer my question." The Gryffindor pressed, letting his voice take on a husky, seductive tone.

"What question?" Draco swallowed roughly at the sight of the heated expression on Potter's face.

"Do you like them?"

"Yes." He whispered, letting his attention drop once more to the excess of perfectly tanned skin displayed in front of him.

"Are you going to take them home?"

"Well I wasn't planning on sticking them up behind my desk." Draco's tone wasn't quite as flippant as he'd hoped.

"Will you wank over them?"

His eyes shot up from the table to meet Potter's heated gaze.

"Do you want me to?" Draco countered.

"Yes."

"Will you imagine it?" From the molten expression on Potter's face, it seemed he had effectively turned the tables on their conversation.

"Yes... But what will you imagine?" Potter shifted slightly in his seat and Draco wondered if the Gryffindor was even close to being as hard as he was. "Will you imagine bending me over a school desk? Or licking champagne off of my chest? Or riding me on the back of my motorbike?"

As the other man spoke, he rifled through the pictures, providing visual accompaniment for each suggestion. As if Draco needed any more stimulation. The photographs alone were more than enough to heat his blood, but with the subject of them sitting so close, pouring lusty words in his ear, he felt hot enough to spontaneously combust.

" _Your_ motorbike?" He asked roughly.

"Mhmm." Potter's finger traced over the metallic beast, mostly serving to draw Draco's attention to the Gryffindor's muscular thighs. "Do you like that idea then?"

"Yes." He admitted.

"I never had you down as a motorbike fan." Potter teased.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me." Draco retorted, though there was no venom in his tone.

"I'd like to change that."

Draco nodded. "I'd like that too."

Potter smirked suddenly. "I'd certainly like to take you for a ride on my Harley."

There was a vaguely lascivious note to the Gryffindor's tone and Draco found himself gazing back down at the picture in front of him, imagining how it would feel to climb onto the bike behind Potter, their bodies pressed tightly together. He was so engrossed in his reverie that he didn't even notice when a waitress came to deliver their food. It wasn't until she pointed to the photograph that he became aware of her presence at all.

"What an adorable puppy! Is he yours?"

"Yes." Potter spoke up when it seemed Draco had been rendered incapable of replying.

"Well he's lovely." She smiled at them. "Enjoy your meal!"

Potter thanked her and she departed, leaving them alone in their bubble.

"I'm glad I was right about Hermione." Potter quipped lightly. "Or that could have been very embarrassing."

"Indeed. I don't think I've ever heard you called a puppy before." Draco tried to use the distraction to bring himself back under control, willing away the raging hard on that he would only be able to conceal beneath the table for so long.

"No I can't say I have been." Potter laughed. "I didn't know puppies rode motorbikes either."

"Apparently you can do anything, even in puppy form." Draco commented lightly, collecting up the pictures and returning them to their envelope.

Without the distracting images in front of him, Draco found himself able to concentrate once more, though his blood still pounded through his veins at twice its normal rate. Taking a bite of his lunch, he watched the Gryffindor across the table until the other man became aware of Draco's attention.

"What?" He asked through a mouthful of food.

Draco ate another bite, swallowing before asking his own question. "Why did you do it?"

Potter had the grace to look embarrassed.

"It was stupid really. A drinking game that got out of hand."

"Only you could lose a drinking game and end up splashed across the centre-fold of Witch Weekly with no clothes on."

"I didn't lose exactly..." Potter sounded slightly sheepish.

"Go on."

"Alright. I was out on a stag night with some friends and after doing our best to drink the bar dry at about three different night clubs in muggle London, we ended up in this dive of a place on Knockturn Alley playing drinking games. It probably would have been fine if we'd gone anywhere else, but this particular establishment is apparently famous for selling a foreign brand of Firewhiskey laced with a type of veritaserum..."

"Potter, you know that stuff is highly illegal in this country."

"I was off duty!"

"I can't believe the bar tender even sold it to you."

"I was under a glamour, they didn't know it was me."

"Well that explains why it didn't make the front page of the Prophet at least."

"Do you want to hear the rest of this story or not?" The Gryffindor frowned at him.

"I apologise. So you were in a bar in Knockturn Alley imbibing illegal alcohol and...?"

Potter glared at him for a moment longer before continuing with his tale.

"It was all going swimmingly until someone decided to buy a bottle. We ended up playing truth or dare and it was fine at first. The questions were filthy, the dares peverted, but it was all in good fun. Then it turned serious. Someone asked the groom if he was nervous about getting married, I suppose they expected him to turn into a gibbering wreck, but he said no. He was over the moon and could barely wait to get his fiancee down the aisle. The mood changed after that and the questions changed with it. Someone asked me who the best shag of my life had been and I couldn't bring myself to answer. They threatened me with a forfeit, making it as dramatic as possible, thinking they'd force me into answering, but I wouldn't. The forfeit was to pose for the magazine and in the end I agreed."

"You couldn't have got out of it afterwards?"

"Justin Finch-Fletchley was the one who came up with the forfeit. He was never going to let me back out and besides, I gave my word."

"Gryffindor idiot."

"Yes." Potter agreed with a half smile.

"Why wouldn't you just answer the question, surely that would have been better?"

"Maybe, who knows? But so many people have already seen me naked, it seemed like the lesser of two evils to let a few more."

Draco said nothing, but couldn't quite hide his grimace of distaste.

"I know what you must think of me." Potter said softly. "I know I'm a total slut and I'm not proud of it, but I had my reasons for staying silent. My body may not be much of a mystery any more, but my heart is still mine."

Despite what Potter had just said, he was still half tempted to ask the Gryffindor the question he had refused to answer in the past. Chewing on his food, he considered his options until he realised that Potter was smirking at him.

"You can ask me if you want to."

"Ah, but will I get an answer?"

"Perhaps." Potter remained enigmatic.

"Who was it?"

"You." He winked before adding, "And my answer hasn't changed since that night at the bar."

"Funny, Potter."

"Why is that so hard to believe?"

"That your best ever shag was the first time you bottomed? In the middle of a fucking field? And never mind all the crap that came afterwards. How could that possibly have been the best?"

Potter shrugged. "I never said it was perfect, just that it was the best I'd ever had. I told you that on Saturday night as well, if you recall. It wasn't just a line."

"But..."

"It was special because it was with _you_." Potter interrupted. "I'd never wanted anyone so much in my life, never needed someone so much. It felt incredible, being with you like that, knowing that no one else had ever touched me the way you were touching me... No one else has ever made me feel like that before or since."

"Potter..." Draco didn't know what to say, completely blown away by what the Gryffindor had revealed so openly.

"Call me Harry? Please?"

Draco swallowed roughly, feeling oddly as though he was about to say something far more momentous than just the Gryffindor's first name.

"Ok... Harry."

Potter, no, _Harry_ , smiled brilliantly, the expression reminding Draco of the sun coming out from behind a cloud. The next thing he knew, the Gryffindor had practically dived across the table, tangling his fingers in Draco's hair and pressing their lips together. In that moment, he forgot everything, where they were, who was watching, all of it. All he could think or see or feel was Harry. Even so, when the nearly blinding flash went off, Draco couldn't help but be pulled right back down to earth. Their lips parted and Harry looked round. Belatedly following the Gryffindor's lead, Draco turned his head, immediately catching sight of the Daily Prophet photographer making no attempt to hide his presence.

"I think we'll make tomorrow's front page as well." Harry said wryly.

"That'll be a first."

The Gryffindor looked briefly confused. "What will?"

"You being snapped with the same man twice." Draco's tone was teasing and for the first time there was no edge to his voice.

"They'll stop eventually. There's only so many times they can put us on the cover before people will start getting bored of it."

"I'm not sure twice is enough to bore people."

"No, but I wasn't planning on stopping at two."

"Pictures or dates?" Draco queried.

"Either."

"What number were you intending to stop at then?" Draco found himself holding his breath as he waited for Harry's answer.

"How about we start at a hundred and go from there?"

"That's a lot of dates." Draco's tone was flippant though his heart had begun to pound.

"Should take a year or two at least."

"We'd better get started then."

"Kiss me again and I'm sure there will be more photos. As for the rest... let me take you to dinner tomorrow night?"

Smirking, Draco leaned back across the table, reaching out to tangle his fingers in Harry's mop of messy hair.

"Pick me up on your bike and I'm sure that can be arranged."

"I'll be there at seven." Harry promised with a grin and this time when their lips met, even the photographers weren't enough to distract them from each other.

FIN


End file.
